A Case of Mistaken Identity
by peacefulsands
Summary: Something unexpected goes bump in the closet.  Preseries - Dean's 9 and Sam's 5.  GoodDad!John


**A Case of Mistaken Identity**

Written for the prompt : _Supernatural, John Winchester + wee!chesters, things going bump in the closet_

**Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

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><p><strong>A Case of Mistaken Identity<strong>

"Dad! Dad!"

John was surprised to hear Dean's voice sounding so anxious. "Daaaad!" He made a run for the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. His nine-year-old son was standing at the door to the bedroom, looking ashen and shaky. As he reached the top of the stairs, Dean turned and ran to him, burying his face into John's chest and wrapping his arms tight around him. "We have to go, Dad. We have to leave!" he sobbed desperately.

John dropped to his knees letting Dean hold on tight, arms clinging desperately. The last few weeks had been difficult. Dean had pieced together enough to know exactly what 'the job' was that his dad kept leaving for. He'd been more anxious and more clingy each time it had come time for John to leave them. The nightmares Dean had been tormented with after his mother's death were back in force and John hadn't been going far or staying out any later than he absolutely had to, not willing to let his son face this alone.

But it was broad daylight now and Dean was only home from school because he'd been so ill with a chesty cough that had sapped all his energy for the last few days. Carefully holding on to his son, John stood up, lifting Dean up with him and carrying him downstairs to the sofa. He sat down shifting Dean to sit on his lap. This was so out of character. Dean had always been more likely to bottle things up and just try to get by on his own, not wanting to worry anyone else with whatever was bothering him, so this was as good as unheard of.

"Talk to me, Dean, tell me what's up," John said softly.

"I – I don' – don't w-want . . ." Dean was sobbing, gasping for breath. John ran a hand soothingly through his son's hair, holding him close. "It – it – it's in the c-closet. It's gonna – it's gonna hurt us. I – I – I . . ."

John frowned. "What's in the closet, Dean?" He didn't loosen his hold on his son.

"I – I – I don't know, but I – I heard it. I don't wan – I don't want it to hurt anyone."

"Ssssh, sssh," John soothed, rocking him back and forth gently. Eventually the exhaustion of the last few days of being ill and the lack of restful sleep overcame Dean and he fell asleep in his Dad's arms. John lifted him gently and laid him down on the couch, covering him over with a blanket before gathering up his supplies and heading for the closet in his sons' room.

He stood in the room for a few minutes, just listening, hearing exactly what he imagined Dean had heard earlier. Cautiously he threw back the door not sure what he was expecting to find.

The one thing he hadn't expected to see was a chewed through box shifting back and forth over the pile of boots and bags and other clutter that covered the bottom of the closet. Still holding a gun ready, John knelt down and carefully flipped the lid off the box. He saw movement and barely held back from firing as his brain registered exactly what it was he was looking at . . . A Hamster!

Shaking his head, he lifted the little furball up and stared at it. "You are nothing but trouble and when I go get Sam, he's really gonna get it this time," he informed the hamster, who cocked its head to one side as if it was listening to John's words. He sighed and stood back up, still holding both the gun and the hamster.

He made his way back downstairs, checking Dean was still asleep before heading into the kitchen. Dean wasn't going to be asleep for long, John could hear the cough already beginning to kick back in, so he quickly hid the gun before slipping out to the trunk of the Impala where he found a metal tin and put the hamster inside it, leaving the lid off, thankful that the sides were too sheer for the hamster to climb out when the tin was upright.

He took the tin back inside and set it down on the coffee table near Dean, aware of the way Dean was shifting in his sleep. He fetched the cough mixture from the bathroom and came to sit down beside Dean, knowing it wasn't long before he had to fetch Sam from school and so he'd need to wake Dean up before then anyway.

"Dean," he shook his son's shoulder gently as he said his name. "Dean, come on, son. I need you to wake up." Dean jerked awake, eyes suddenly wide and fretful, settling finally on his father and calming. "Hey, son. I've got some more cough mix for you and then it's time to go get Sammy. Oh and I've also found out what was in the closet," he finished with a smile and a nod to the table.

Dean turned, a look of unease in his eyes which changed to curiosity when he saw the tin on the table. He rolled on to his side and pushed himself up enough to look in the tin. He frowned for a moment, then realization dawned. "It's . . . It's the hamster.

"I would guess so, yes."

"But – but you said no!"

"I did indeed. We've got enough trouble looking after ourselves without Sammy bringing home a menagerie."

"A m-what?"

"A menagerie. Look, doesn't matter that's not important now. We need to go get your little brother back from school and drop off the hamster before he does end up staying the weekend and then . . . then we need to deal with your brother."

"I'm sure he didn't mean . . ."

"Oh, he meant to bring him home alright. I'm just amazed that the teacher didn't think to check it would be alright. You going to be alright to keep the tin upright so he doesn't escape in the car."

Dean nodded, then bit his lip, eyes huge as he looked up at his Dad and whispered, "I'm – I'm sorry about before."

John ran a hand over his head and hooked it behind his neck to pull him closer, as he said, "You have nothing to be sorry for. You did the right thing. There was something you couldn't identify in the closet so you called for back-up. I've got no problem with that."

Dean looked relieved. He pushed off the couch to fetch his coat before coming back to pick up the tin with the hamster in. He looked at his dad and said, "I know what Sammy did was wrong, but I can kind of see why he did it. The hamster is kind of cute."

"He did wrong, not just because I told him no, but also because he shut that poor thing in a box in a closet. That's no way to treat an animal."

"He's only little, Dad and I'm sure he didn't mean any harm." John just raised his eyebrows in response.

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><p>At the school, John approached the classroom door carrying the tin. He waited until the teacher turned to look at him before speaking, "Good Afternoon, Ma'am. I believe there has been a misunderstanding." Sam looked up from where he was still sitting at his table, a pile of his belongings on the table in front of him. "My son, Samuel, brought this home yesterday." He held out the tin. The teacher took a wary step forward and looked into the box, brow crinkling in confusion.<p>

"Sam?" she said, turning to the five year old who was now looking anywhere but at his teacher and father. "Sam, I think there's something you need to explain to us."

Sam screwed up his nose and said, "No."

"Now, Sammy, that's not very nice. It's not how we behave in this class. Now is the time for you to tell your father and I what's going on . . . This isn't our class hamster, is it?"

Sam pouted, but finally said, "Nope. 's Jimmy's."

"And why have you got Jimmy's hamster?"

"Cos Daddy said I couldn't look after the school one and so you gave the school one to Jimmy and that meant Jimmy had two. Tha's no' fair. So Jimmy said he'd share his with me, 'cause Daddy di'nt say anythin' about Jimmy's hamster, just about the school one."

Both John and the teacher were somewhat taken aback by the reasoning, but it was John who recovered first, "And where is Jimmy?"

"His mother has already collected him. He left earlier for a dental appointment," the teacher said. "I'm sorry. I could try to contact her to let her know what the boys have done."

"That would be appreciated. If she wants to contact me, could you give her my number. I need to get back, Dean is in the car and he's not well. We'll keep the hamster with us for now and I'm sorry for the trouble Samuel has caused." He turned his attention to his son, "Sam, get your stuff and come on. We have things to talk about when we get home."

Sam grabbed his bag with a scowl and marched toward the door. "'s not fair. I just wan'ed to look after the hamster. Everybody gets to look after it but not me."

"Enough, Sam. Into the car now and I don't want to hear another word."

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><p>When they got back to the house, John took the hamster back from Dean and carried it into the house following Dean's weary steps. Sam scampered ahead. "It's not fair. I want to hold the hamster. 's my hamster for the weekend."<p>

"It's most definitely not your hamster not now, not ever. You are going straight to your room and that's where you'll stay until I say you can come out."

"But what about the hamster? It needs me to look after it."

"It most definitely does not need you looking after it – you're the one who left it in a cardboard box in the bottom of a closet. It had to chew its way out just to survive – no air, no food and no water. What you've done is prove, Sam, that you're not ready to look after a pet of any kind. Now, bed quietly. Dean needs some rest."

It was about two hours later when Jimmy's mother turned up at the house with a very subdued looking Jimmy at her side. "I am so sorry, Mr Winchester. I don't know what Jimmy was thinking. He knows better than to do this kind of thing behind my back."

"As does Sam. I'm sorry you had to come all the way out to collect the hamster. Sam won't be doing anything of the sort again."

"Nor will Jimmy," she said with a tone of absolute certainty and a look at her son that clearly brooked no arguments.

"I guess boys will be boys though."

She rolled her eyes, "Tell me about it. Jimmy's my fourth and they never get any easier."

As she left, he closed the door and went back to check on Dean. "I'm just glad it wasn't anything really dangerous in the closet, Dad," said Dean wearily.

"Me too, Dean, but Sam still needs to learn that he's not going to always get his own way. No matter how ingenious his reasoning might be!" John smiled and settled down on the couch, letting Dean curl into his side.

"I guess it was kind of a funny mistake for me to make though?" Dean asked.

"I guess it was," John reassured. "I guess it was."


End file.
